


Sakura

by xXAonoNYmouSPXx



Category: Naruto
Genre: BAMF Haruno Sakura, Brotherhood, Character building, Developing Friendships, Family of Choice, Feels, Friendship, Gen, Gender Inequality, Gender Roles, Haruno Sakura-centric, Inspired by Mulan (1998), Male Dominated World, Military, Military Ranks, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overcoming Hardships and Struggles, Shinobi Politics (Naruto), Shinobi War, Shinobi training, Soldier Training, Strong Haruno Sakura, War, Weak Becomes Strong, Worldbuilding, girl pretends to be a boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29698155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXAonoNYmouSPXx/pseuds/xXAonoNYmouSPXx
Summary: Under the roaring thunder and tempestuous rain, straddling the back of a jet black steed with a star on its forehead, was a young boy of pink hair and green eyes wearing his father’s sword on his back and a promise in his heart as he, whose true identity was of the young girl no older than twelve years, rode towards the most treacherous journey of her life.Like a carp beginning the long climb of a raging waterfall, an unassuming civilian girl begins the path of a shinobi and fight a war.Mulan-inspired AU
Relationships: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 & Haruno Sakura, Haruno Sakura & Canon Male Characters, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & OC Male Characters, Haruno Sakura & Rookie Nine, Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura & Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	1. Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> MULAN-inspired AU centered around Haruno Sakura.
> 
> WARNING: This fic will contain themes of gender discrimination, gore, political drama, lots of drama, character building, relationship building, time-period discrepancies, and a bit of humor.
> 
> There will be no real focus on romantic relationships but readers are free to interpret shared moments of their OTPs/pairings at their discretion with respect to the other readers and the author.
> 
> Apologies in advance for any grammar/spelling mistakes for having no beta.
> 
> The author’s only wish is for the readers to enjoy and have the time to continue updating because this is definitely going to be one helluva long ride.
> 
> Enjoy.

The tie was messy, ugly, and bit loose, but for a child of six, it’s enough if it could keep her precious treasures safe and free from dirt as she buried them in their usual place in the soil. Here, in the safety of her little room- tucked within a hollow of a great tree guarded by a group of bushes, where she can come and go freely. Her own little haven.

Sakura crawled back in her kneeling position, the lights coming in from between the thicket’s leaves were more than enough to provide light. Sometimes, a bird or two would poke their heads in and she’d let them. Before she found this spot and claimed it for herself, there was an empty nest that proved to be the former home of small birds. Now they just come to feed off of the insects that crawl among the undergrowth. It may have elicited a squeak from her a few times but now she doesn’t mind. Especially not when those birds would let her listen to them sing over the treetops and a curious, brave one would land on her open book to peer at what she’s studying as if they could understand it.

The sun had lost some of its brightness by the time she fully emerged from her secret place, indicating that it was time to go home and any later would put her in quite the trouble.

_As if she wasn’t already._

“So this is where you’ve been hiding all this time.”

Little Sakura nearly jumped with her startled squeak at the all-too-familiar voice, and upon that realization, dread to turn her head from the entrance of her little haven. There was the sound of rustling fabric and she didn’t have to see to know her father had crossed his arms over her chest.

“Now Little Blossom, won’t you turn to look at your father?” there was a bit of humor laced in his tone as always, but the impending scolding was still there.

With eyes shut tight behind peach-skinned eyelids and pink lashes, Sakura turned herself around suspensefully at the large man that was her father.

“H-Hello, father,” she greeted nervously, eyes and fists clenched tight in nervousness.

Haruno Kizashi is a kind and jolly man. A man of large grins and bellowing laughter. One whose demeanor easily fooled people into thinking he wasn’t a distinguished war veteran. He’s also a loving and doting man to his small family. Not once has he ever raised his voice nor raised a hand at his wife and child- qualities that other men accused him for having no spine and other women envied his wife for. But Sakura knew even kind and loving men can get angry.

Once, she saw her father snap and hit another. She had never seen him like that before and it was terrifying she cried to her mother before her father came to console her. Later on, she would learn and understand that the man her father quarreled with had dared to cheat on a trade deal that resulted in numerous displeased customers for their own personal gain.

“Hmmm,” she hears him hum and with a daring eye open, Sakura watched him approach her with a hand stroking the beard on his chin. He stopped on her side before suddenly crouching down on all fours. His large head and even bigger hair poked into the thicket entrance.

“F-Father?!”

“This is quite the place you have, Little Blossom,” he said as he wriggled however much his large frame he could into the thicket. It made quite the funny picture that instantly washed Sakura’s nervousness away. “It has adequate lighting, soft grass for a good bedding, and ah-ha! So this is where those _‘missing blankets_ ’ have been! I say- what the? Oh dear, oh dear, Little blossom? Sakura, child, won’t you please help your poor father here? I’m afraid I seemed to have been _caught on something_.”

Sakura couldn’t help let out a sputter. Her father’s light and mirthful voice instantly lifting her spirits. As bad as he loved his puns.

“Papa,” she let out a childish whine whilst a full smile plastered on her face. With her small hands, she grabbed on the side of her father’s haori and pulled with all of her little strength. Unknowing her father was only pretending to be stuck whilst he feigned helplessness until finally, he popped himself out and grabbed her in one fell swoop upon his stumble backwards.

“Papa!” this time, Sakura squealed, giggled, and laughed as they tumbled over the grass and flowers on the forest floor. Her father’s arms kept her secure around his rumbling chest as his own loud laughter exceeds hers.

“My little blossom!” Kizashi bellowed, his large hands easily lifted her tiny, frame from under her armpits. “You have saved me! If not for you, I would be stuck in there forever! Oh the tragedy! For saving my life, I am forever in your debt, my brave child.”

“You don’t have to, silly papa,” Sakura giggled into her hands as he settled her on his lap.

“Still, do tell me, Little Blossom, how come I found you here in the forest? With how adorable my daughter is, passersby might confuse you for a fairy and capture you! Now that would break your father’s heart!” he said dramatically with a hand over his chest feigning pain in his expression.

Though Sakura giggled a bit more for his exaggeration, her smile dropped a bit and her nervousness once more made itself known. She’s not as brave as her father proclaimed herself to be. She knows that. Whilst little girl in her age should be out playing with other girls, Sakura preferred her solitude running around the forest floor, and with books, scrolls, and tomes as her only companions. Sometimes a woodland creature or two as well. All because she couldn’t muster up the courage to speak up for herself, but mostly because other children would tease and make fun of her appearance.

In this humble little village of theirs from the provinces in the east, home of farmers and fishermen, only she and her father were born with peculiar hair color. Having descended from a line in the Land of Iron, yet despite hat oddity, people respect Kizashi as a former solider as those who have returned whole from the desecrated battlefields are worthy of honor and praise in their own right. Unfortunately, Sakura inherited nothing of her father’s courage and strength.

“Not to mention your mother has been worried especially when you run off without us knowing,” he added.

“I-I’m sorry papa,” she dropped her head in shame, “I just… like to explore and studying on my own. Look! I even made my hidden space myself!”

Her father hummed at this. In place of her shyness and easy tears is a wanderlust that resembled him in his youth. Her intelligence is also greater than most children her age. Though they are not wealthy, the Haruno are certainly educated from being a merchant family and there’s never a day Sakura was not seen holding a book or scroll the moment she was first taught how to read and write. No doubt that she might be keeping pilfered books in her little haven too.

“I see. Still, don’t you think it is unladylike to get yourself all dirty like this? You don’t want your mother to scold you for ruining your kimono now, do you?”

Sakura ‘ _eeped’_ upon realization and panic. Seeing the stains on her green clothes and tried to swat them off to no avail. To this, her father just laughed out loud more.

“What am I going to do now papa?! Mother will surely get mad and will keep me at home doing chores for a week!” she cried in panic.

“That is dreadful,” he hummed while sagely stroking his beard until his expression suddenly lit up like he was just struck by an ingenious idea. “How about we give her a reason for you to get all dirty?”

“A reason?” she blinked large, confused emerald eyes at him.

“That’s right. Since you saved my life, it is only right for me to help you even if you didn’t ask for anything in return. Didn’t you say that you always wanted to learn how to ride a horse?”

Face brightened like a thousand suns, Sakura’s green eyes twinkled in excitement and barely held her cheer at her father’s words.

“Do you really mean it, papa?!”

Kizashi nodded with a large grin of his own and Sakura jumped from her father’s lap and raced to the black mare he came with while looking for her, “I’ll go get Nari right now!”

Exciting. This is so exciting! She had always wanted to ride one, but her mother said it was unbecoming of a lady to do so.

“Did you hear that Nari?! Papa said he’s going to let me ride you today!” she squealed, to which the horse barely snorted in understanding.

Just as she grabbed hold of the reins (after jumping a bit), she heard a hiss and grunt that turned her head sharply back.

“Papa? What’s wrong?” her excitement faded as she saw her father kneeling on one leg while his hand caressed the other.

“Ah it’s nothing, Little Blossom!” he suddenly perked, standing up straight, “Just a little complaint from our tumble. You’ve certainly become heavier than before, child!”

“Papa! Don’t tease me like that!”

Cheeks flushed red with embarrassment; Sakura pulled on her laughing father’s sleeve tightly towards Nari. All the while ignoring the shooting pain on his knee.

.

A year later, Sakura would watch helplessly as her father walked around their home with a walking cane in hand. The village doctor said that Haruno Kizashi’s injury from battle had caused this ailment and no amount of medicine would be able to cure it besides a prescription of tea to spare him from the pain. It was a wound that complained late and brought by age.

Because of the war, her parents married late and was only blessed with one child. A daughter. Her. But even though Sakura would not be able to carry on the Haruno lineage, nor inherit her father’s trading business, they still loved her just as much.

Still, despite the permanent limp in his step, her father’s smile and laughter never wavered as he continued to shower and dote on her and her mother.

That love for her father drove Sakura to do her best as a filial daughter. To at least bring honor to their small family and make her father proud. And as the years passed, Sakura stayed true to her vow. She listened and learned attentively with her mother on how to sew, cook, and play instruments. She learned to weave cloth, dress, and act like a proper lady should. There’s no doubt in anyone’s minds that she wasn’t on her way to become a proper lady as expected of their society.

In their world ruled by men, there’s only so much a woman can do.

 _But she’d be damned if she didn’t do her best_.

Still, that dedication was never enough to trample on the fire burning within her. A fire she knew that made _different_. With every chance she gets, Sakura would still sneak about, both outside and inside their house, to read on things no woman is expected to or even allowed to see. The field of medicine had captivated her the most, but because women are not allowed to become doctors, Sakura could only indulge on her lust for knowledge on the ink scrawled on pages upon pages.

That seamlessly unquenchable thirst for knowledge had led Sakura to befriend the unlikeliest person in the village.

“Done with your lessons to day, child?” asked a woman casually as she took a of her drink.

“Sakura in mid-afternoon, Tsunade-shishou? Has your tolerance finally wavered with your age?” teased the pinkette as she took her usual place on the opposite end of the woman’s table. The shoji doors that led to her small garden opened for their viewing pleasure.

“Cheeky brat! I just woke up from a nap, is all, and I already had two bottles in the morning,” she quipped back but a fond smile hinted at her lips.

Tsunade, an old woman of unknown origins. She came to the village before Sakura was born and based from their stories, she stumbled upon their village in her lonesome with nothing but the clothes on her back and more money than anyone in the village has ever seen. She offered the village money in exchange of letting her live in their humble village and privacy. The village elder at that time accepted her and even gave her a modest house far enough to provide privacy but still near enough to the village proper. Tsunade kept true to her word and never bothered anyone (unless they bothered her, which resulted in a few cases of people falling ill mysteriously. Sakura later learned that Tsunade had a knack for herbs and using them), so the village decided to leave her alone to her peace but not without being branded as a village pariah for her strangeness.

Perhaps it was in that strangeness where they found a sort of camaraderie and friendship. And it all started when Tsunade stumbled upon her trying to identify a plant from the scroll in her hand in one of her strolls in the forest.

Startled, confused, and perhaps even wary at first, those had eventually faded with time as even Sakura wasn’t sure when she was able to cross the metaphorical wall Tsunade put around herself. Before either of them knew it, the encounters in the forest correcting her in identifying poisonous plants and herbs had turned into daily conversations over tea.

When Sakura once told Tsunade why she doesn’t have any other friends besides her, the old woman had given her a lecture and even scolded her lack of confidence. Ever since then, Tsunade taught her a form of meditation that was supposed to help her _become stronger_ and allow her to at least defend herself.

Sakura disliked getting hurt, hated it even, and because she’s young and blindly trusting of her only friend, she followed Tsunade’s instructions religiously even though she doesn’t fully understand how just sitting around and cultivating the _small pool_ insider her help her get strong.

_“Tsunade-shishou, how come you know so much about this stuff?”_

Sakura asked one day while they sipped over tea, Tsunade would still drink but had taken to tea every once in a while, or at least whenever she came to visit. However, the old woman was able to acquire a seemingly endless stash of alcohol, she’ll never know. As she focused her curious green eyes at the woman of long, white hair that had once been blonde in her youth. It was for the first time, Tsunade’s usual stern and condescending look, had changed into a more somber and haunted expression.

The old woman never did answer her question and Sakura knew better than to ask again. Not when she had seen the saddest face she’s ever seen.

Six years have passed and she’s still the familial, obedient, estranged daughter of the Haruno family, whose only friend was the village pariah, and there’s no other reason for anyone to think otherwise.

Until one day.

The chorus of cheers and claps were deafening all around her.

Sakura could only bite her lip and clench her fist to keep the tears from coming out unlike the other girls around her. Her green eyes glared at the flowers in front of her as if they were the reason why she’s feeling so downtrodden. Even though she knew that she was the one who arranged them as such, in turn making it her fault.

Every spring, the village would hold a flower arranging contest for both girls of age and not. In this humble village of theirs, to win such an event would bring great pride to the winner and her family. Her skills would also be displayed for the village and thus make them more eligible for marriage.

Although Sakura has yet to think nor care about marriage, being only twelve years in age and still have three years of freedom before being announced a marriage candidate, and though she may have fantasized about her own romance on occasion, she was determined to win to make her family proud.

Yet that wish was dashed by an opponent who just so happened to be better in arranging flowers than her. Even though the winner deserved it, Sakura’s cosmos couldn’t hold a candle to the girl’s marigold centerpiece, she can’t help feeling bitter about it. She even wore her favorite cosmos-designed comb for luck!

As she descended down the small stage with her small vase, Sakura looked up at her mother before turning it back down in shame.

“Sakura,” her mother began but she stubbornly kept her head down. She heard a sigh and a rustle of fabric until she felt two hands cup her cheeks, forcing her to look up to her mother’s own pair of green eyes. She saw no hint of shame or anger, “Tell me, Sakura, you did your best, didn’t you?”

Swallowing a lump she didn’t know was lodged in her throat, Sakura nodded once in affirmation and to her surprise, her mother rewarded her a kiss to her forehead followed by a hug.

“Then you’ve done well, my daughter,” she whispered, and Sakura felt her heart stutter.

Haruno Mebuki, compared to her husband, is much firm and stern. A woman of few words who prided in her mastery as a seamstress. Yet behind her sharp demeanor is a warmth and kindness only her family was allowed to see.

Partially consoled after her words (and a stick of dango), they returned home hand-in-hand.

“There’s my Little Blossom!” her father’s cheerful greeting was loud in her ears when they finally reached home. Only to find him waiting at the gate while leaning on his cane. “I’ve been waiting anxiously for you to come back.”

“Dear, shouldn’t you be drinking your tea at this time?” her mother rebuked from behind her.

“And miss my Sakura’s return home? I don’t think so!” he followed with a bellow of laughter that made him grip on his cane for balance.

Sakura however, felt herself biting her lip once more. Her father’s words falling on deaf ears as she mustered what little courage she has left in her.

Finally feeling the weight of her father’s expectant gaze, she spoke, “I-I’m sorry, papa. I didn’t win the competition… Ami… Ami’s flowers were much more beautiful than mine. I’m sorry. I’ll just- I’ll just put this away.”

She apologized twice for good measure before fast walking past her father, afraid to see his reaction to her loss. The house was empty as she made her way to the back garden where her father kept a shelf of bonsai he cared for himself, a hobby he picked up since he accepted his permanent limp. Though her family’s property is bigger than most houses in the village, they’re not overly wealthy and both her parents liked to keep to themselves so there were no servants to help run the household.

When she reached the garden, instead of placing it among her father’s plants, she placed the vase on the stone ground below before moving to the cherry blossom tree that make up the centerpiece of their garden. A stone bench sat at its roots and there, Sakura unfurled the comb and ribbons that helped decorated her for the event. Her heart once more felt heavy at the loss and fueled by her lack of confidence and insecurity.

She could almost hear Tsunade’s reprimanding voice at that.

In her sullen mood, she barely greeted her father when he came to stand beside her under the tree. Even when he sat on the bench beside her, Sakura resorted to fiddling the long pink strands of her hair.

“My, my, would you look at that, Sakura,” he began, “What beautiful blossoms we have this year; and look! Look! That one’s still a bud! It’s awfully late, don’t you think?”

At that, she let a curious eye peer at to where her father was pointing. On one of the low branches of the tree was a singular bud, isolated from the rest, closed and oh so small.

“But you know what? I bet that when it blooms,” he continued, a fonder smile on his face as he took the comb from her lap and secured it on her hair, “it would be the most beautiful of all.”

Despite her age, Sakura understood her father’s words clearly and the message behind them. So when she smiled back at him, now feeling completely relieved from the comfort of both her parents, her heart brimmed with newfound determination to-

**_CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!_ **

The sound of the village bell rang loud and true. The bell that only rang to tell the time every six hours was not supposed too early as scheduled.

Which only meant one thing.

“Papa?” she stood up just as her father did. His back instantly rigid and his soft expression turned serious as he looked over their property’s wall.

“Stay here, Sakura,” he commanded and for a moment, Sakura obeyed and stayed put. Her father rarely showed this side of him and only when in front of his workers.

She watched him go back to the front of their home where her mother was no doubt there as well. Once out of sight, Sakura ran back to a secret dog hole she found years ago hidden behind bushes and wormed her way out. Her size still small enough to fit through the hole without tearing her kimono. Once outside, Sakura raced through the alley between her house and her neighbor’s only to come back out of the main street where the villagers are quickly gathering.

 _‘Damn it_ ,’ she cursed inwardly as she tried to squeeze her way through and peer her head up on the growing crowd to no avail. Retreating back at the congregated crowd, Sakura turned her head here and there and her eyes spotted a tree. She didn’t waste a moment’s hesitation and climbed up the small yet sturdy tree.

Once she secured herself atop the sturdiest branch, its leaves keeping her perfectly hidden, Sakura’s hands flew to her mouth in a gasp.

Dark pants and long-sleeved shirts to blend with the shadows, a moss green flak jacket filled with pockets of god-knows what, and a forehead protector whose metal was engraved with a swirling leaf.

_Shinobi._

She knew of them, of course. Every nation has one. The army of the Land of Fire, soldiers that walk in the shadows, masters of the art of chakra, the shadows hidden in the leaves.

Leaf Shinobi.

‘ _But what on earth are they doing here?’_ She wondered as she stared at the three nin.

As awed as she was of seeing the people who protected the nation’s peace- men she only heard from the village’s rumor mill and from her father’s mouth on the rare occasion he reminisced about his time fighting alongside them, she couldn’t help but wonder.

Sakura blinked. Her mind wracking in wonder of the possibilities. She has heard of shinobi going to villages such as hers to do missions. Oftentimes to pose as guards for traveling merchants or ridding bandits. Dull in events her village may be, at least it is one of the most peaceful in the entire nation. No trouble have ever crossed their village besides the occasional storm and even then they never needed to hire for help. So why would these people come all the way to a village in the countryside? And why is their presence needed to be announced?

 _Unless they wanted everyone to know_.

Instantly, cold dread swept over her like a harsh winter’s wind. Chills crept along her spine, down to the toes of her feet, to the tips of her fingers that raised goosebumps in their wake. All the while her mind echoed the singular conclusion that blared bright and loud in her brain.

**WAR**

“Citizens! I bring news from the Fire Capitol!” the one front and center announced aloud. His voice somehow carried along clearly into everyone’s ears regardless of distance, “The surrounding countries have broken the peace treaty and the Land of Fire is officially at war!-“ shocked gasps and loud murmurs instantly erupted among the crowd at the news. It sent another wave of dread to Sakura’s spine. The shinobi raised the thick scroll that was in a canteen strapped across his chest for everyone to see, “-by order of the Fire Daimyo, one man and or one boy no younger than twelve years old from every immediate family must serve in the Leaf Shinobi army commanded by our own Hokage!”

Another shinobi took out a scroll from his pocket and from that scroll, he reached _inside_ to take out more scrolls. The shinobi that had declared the announcement, unfurled the one in his hand while the other shinobi stood guard.

He began to read aloud.

“The Murata family! The Sawada family! The Ryuu family!”

One by one he recited the family names, and one by one representatives came forth to receive their conscription notice from the other shinobi. Most of the time they were those older in age, men in their middle ages, teenagers, in their prime. Once or twice two would come over, a father and son, brothers. All of which would either approach with heads held high and with conviction, while others were visibly shaking and distraught. Some of them were familiar in faces or names, she doesn’t socialize with the other villagers and mainly kept inside the house, in her little haven, and with Tsunade, but wondering who they were or if she recognized any of them wasn’t the thought running in her mind.

Unconsciously, Sakura had her hands clasped together. Her fingers laced and her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she recited a mantra, a prayer, over and over again to every god she knew.

_‘Please no, anybody but mine. Please god. Please.’_

“The Wakaba family! The Taka family! The Ito family!”

‘ _Please I’m begging you! Anybody please, please, please-‘_

“The Haruno family!”

**_NO!_ **

Emerald eyes shot open wide as her sights instantly pinned the figure of her father. His hair and physique allowed him to easily be spotted amongst the crowd whose people who knew of their family wore shocked expressions as well.

Haruno Kizashi walked tall and with steady strides as he walked through a parted crowd. His cane free from his hand and surrendered to her mother who gripped it tightly on her chest while her face betrayed nothing of her worry and dread.

He stopped before the shinobi handing out the conscriptions and with a confident voice that belied his current condition, he said, “It is an honor so serve the Fire Daimyo.”

All around her, the world seemed to have lost all sound and color. The scene before her played in the slowest motion as each passing moment her father’s hand kept getting closer and closer to grab the scroll.

She didn’t realize she was on her feet and shoving everyone out of the way.

“PAPA YOU CAN’T GO!” she cried the second she broke through the crowd.

“Sakura!” her father exclaimed in shock and anger at her outburst. Still, she stood herself between him and the shinobi. Her big, pleading, green eyes looking straight into the shinobi’s own surprised ones before bowing down low.

“Please sir, I’m begging you! My father has already fought in the last-“

“ ** _Sakura!_** ”

Loud, commanding, stern, and angry.

‘ _No… her papa would never raise his voice at her!’_ but the moment she looked up to see his enraged expression, Sakura felt the blood drain from her face.

“Get. Back. Inside,” he punctuated every word. Gone was the ever-present mirth on his face, the twinkle in his eyes. Sakura grew up with a loving, doting father. Whose large grins and bellowing laughed fooled everyone about his past.

This… He is not her father.

The man before her… is a soldier.

When it seems that she won’t be moving anytime soon, Kizashi stepped around her and Sakura felt as if she was frozen in ice. Even when her mother came forth to grab her shoulders up, firm yet with a gentleness that sympathized with her emotions.

“I apologize for my daughter’s outburst,” he said to the shinobi.

The one reading the family names turned a quick eye from Kizashi to her, and then back to him.

“Will this be a problem?” he asked.

“No sir,” Kizashi answered almost immediately.

The shinobi nodded, “Then take your conscription. The instructions are inside.”

“Yes sir!”

The moment he accepted the scroll, Kizashi turned and walked back to the house with unsteady steps and head still held high. He refused the cane her mother offered.

The silence was absolutely suffocating once dinnertime came and Sakura _hated_ it.

The instructions from the scroll stated an urgency that those chosen to be drafted must leave post-haste straight to the camp. It was a command that only allowed them to say their farewells and pack the necessities. One whole day. For they leave come the morrow.

It was an order. An inconsiderate, merciless order.

And she felt her blood boil all the more for it.

Even as she stared at the wide assortment of food on the table, she couldn’t taste a single thing. All hand-made by her mother, all of which Sakura helped her make in tension-filled silence, all were her father’s favorite dishes. 

Because her mother knew, and she _knew_.

That tonight might be the last meal they’ll have with him.

No.

It _is_ the last meal they’ll have with him.

Sakura felt lightheaded. As if all her senses were robbed as well as all coherent thought left her but the boiling, searing rage building deep inside. An emotion she had never felt before. Not even when she was bullied by other children, never in the walls of her home she grew up in nothing but halcyon days.

 _Anger_.

Red, hot, blinding, **anger**.

“You shouldn’t have to go!” she exploded, rising from her kneeling position from the table and breaking her parent’s robotic eating.

“Sakura!” her mother chided. She may be stern, but the reflection in her eyes spoke everything about her breaking heart.

“There are plenty of men to fight for the Country of Fire!” she raised her own voice this time, eyes locked at the despondent look of her father’s. “You _know_ you can’t fight, papa! Why did you accept this?! How could you do this to us?!”

“It is a man’s honor, obligation, and pride to fight for his country and protect his family,” he recited in that stern voice of his that only made her blood boil even more.

“What honor?! What obligation?! You’re just going to throw away your life for that?! There’s no pride in a dead man!”

_Sick. Nauseating. She hates it. Hates it. **Hates it.**_

“I will _die_ doing what’s **right** ,” he answered back as he stood from his own kneeling position. The fact that he had to heave to raise himself upright did not escape from her gaze.

“But that’s-!”

“ _As it is my **place!**_ ” he shouted. Features stoned and square but it was the reflection of emotion in his eyes that snapped Sakura’s jaw shut completely.

Duty. Passion. Helplessness. Sorry.

 _Sacrifice_.

“As it is the way of this world. We have coddled you long enough, Sakura. We have indulged in your wants and it’s time for you to learn your place,” he continued, but by then his words have already fallen on deaf ears.

It took another heartbeat longer for Sakura to snap and run. Her feet led her out all the way into their family garden, ignoring the ache of her bare feet and biting chill of an oncoming storm. She ran and ran until her eyes clouded with unrestrained tears and by the time she reached the stone bench under the cherry blossom tree, she collapsed and cried.

She cried unlike she’s ever cried before. She cried harder than the time she tripped and grazed her knee. She cried harder than when the other kids in the village pulled on her hair and called her names. She cried harder than when Nari died and she lost one of the two friends she ever had.

No, this was different from all those times.

Those grievances could never compare to this.

It hurts. It makes her angry and it hurts.

Why? Just _why?_ Of all people, of all families, why does it have to be hers?

Has she done something wrong to deserve this karma? Was it because she studied things not meant for women behind her parent’s backs? Was this the punishment for losing the flower arranging contest?

**_God, WHY?!_ **

Her father knew he couldn’t take another fight, _knew_ he can’t survive another war.

His injury had barely allowed him to walk farther than the nearest food stall from their home and he’s expected to march kilometers of harsh terrains and fight foreign enemies?

She saw him just before dinner, saw him in the small room reserved as storage and opened the box hidden with other boxes and wrapped in cloths. Sakura saw her father wield a blade for the first time. A blade he was only able to hold and swing for five seconds before he fell to the floor and released the blade with a loud clang.

Those idiot shinobi! Those idiot foreign nations! This stupid war!

How could they?! Everything was doing fine just moments ago until they appeared. Did they really think her father can stand another second in a fight? No matter how distinguished he was in the last war, her father’s _done_.

Sakura doesn’t know much about war besides the horror written in the scrolls she dared to read in Tsunade’s home. But if those books were anything close to the actual thing, then it wouldn’t be far-fetched to say it would be hell on earth and thinking- no, _knowing_ that her father would be the first ones to fall was just…

She could feel her heart breaking in her chest as her tears by now are mixed with the rain that fell on her cheeks.

Her father’s a kind man. A jolly, happy man who thinks the world of his family. A man who tried to forget the bloodshed of his past to live the rest of his life peacefully.

And he deserved that.

Her father is patient, kind, doting, and would go out of his way to make her and her mother happy. He’d never let his injury get the best of him. He’s strong that way and whenever she needed guidance, sought for advice, he was always there to impart words of wisdom. Even when she would ramble on things he didn’t understand, he was always patient, attentive, and listening to everything she said and never failed to cheer and root for her to do her best.

His words earlier, all that talk about being in their places, she may be young but she knew her father enough to know his own words haunted him. The dreadful truth that such is the way of their world was soul-crushing and she could see the hate in himself for uttering those words to her.

She knew, because she loves her father, and he loves her. His only child and daughter.

And it hurts them all that their family’s being torn apart by something they’re completely helpless with.

When Sakura finally dared to raise her head, behind her wet locks of hair that strayed at the front of her face, she watched the silhouettes of her parents behind the shoji screens. Embracing each other tight until her mother let go and ran away crying just like her.

This isn’t fair.

Her parents were well past their marrying age by the time they got married. Her mother use to tell her how they were engaged when he was drafted by the war and how she waited for him to return for so many years. How she always held onto hope and his promise that he would return to her and they would finally marry. Even when people around her believed him to be dead, her mother never lost hope and that was rewarded when he did return with a missing armor and unbroken smile.

It was definitely a love story that made her giggle and melted other women’s hearts. And because her mother was nearing her thirtieth year by then, they had difficulty making a child of their own until their prayers were answered in the form of her.

Her parents were soulmates. A rare pair matched by the heavens.

It wouldn’t be fair to deprive them of the happiness they deserved. She wouldn’t be able to stand seeing her mother in silence in wait but this time, knowing that the man she loves will never come back.

No. She loves her parents too much for that.

They are imperfect, sure. She’s had disputes with them, yes. But despite all those errors was a familial love that outweighed all the rest.

Her father will not survive this war.

Her mother will become a widow.

And Sakura will grow up the rest of her years fatherless.

That is the future that awaits them come the morrow.

But…

As Sakura turns her head to the sheltered bonsai shelves of her father’s collection, amidst the rain and crackle of thunder, Sakura saw her vase decorated with cosmos sitting on the place that used to be her father’s favorite bonsai.

It was at that moment that Sakura made her decision.

She waited deep in the night. Her parents never sought to find her, wanting to give her the solitude she needed to come around with her sorrows for herself before stepping in. The sky was loud with roaring thunder and she used that and the loud pitter-patter of the rain to mask her steps to sneak into her parent’s room.

There, she took her father’s conscription, and traded in its place was the jeweled Sakura flower her father had given her for her twelfth birthday just as his father gave him on his. It symbolized her father’s faith in her, her father’s wish of a peaceful life into her future as a woman. How disappointed would he be, to know that she’ll be the one to destroy his hope herself?

Sakura lingered there to watch her parent’s sleeping figures. Both holding onto each other tightly in their sleep. She wanted to hug them, wanted to kiss her mother’s tear-stained cheeks and the wrinkle between her father’s brows.

But she knew she couldn’t. she couldn’t risk herself being found just as her plan began. No matter how much she wanted to.

“I love you,” she said with barely a whisper as another roar of thunder cracked the sky.

When she left their room, she never looked back.

Only the heavens would be the sole witness to her plight.

It was in the room next door where she found her father’s pack as well as her father’s sword. She was hesitant to bring the sword. She was hesitant to even hold it. But for her plan to work, she’ll at least need this much to represent her father. Only war veterans were allowed to carry home with them a weapon of their choosing, and for her father it was this.

A wakizashi, as she finally recognized once she pulled it from its sheath. Its weight was heavy on her hands as if the sword itself was protesting, but as she stared at her reflection on the sword’s perfectly polished metal, Sakura mustered all the strength that she has and heaved it up.

With one hand held tightly on her once luscious locks of pink hair in front of a full-length mirror, Sakura sliced them off with the sword’s sharp blade. It cut through them like butter and Sakura breathed deeply as she realized she had just reached the point of no return.

Hair is one of a woman’s greatest assets. Besides the waist and face, a woman’s worth is further valued and appealed more to men if their hair was kept long and properly cared for.

By doing this… Sakura has completely surrendered her duty to be a lady.

It was _frightening_. To throw all those years of learning etiquette, lessons on the virtues and duties expected of her in the future as a nameless man’s wife, a world she still grew up in nonetheless.

It terrified her.

With another deep breath, Sakura raised the sword once more and cut off the rest of the locks till all she was left with was a head of messy, uneven, and slightly messy curls.

With the sword back in its sheath, and the pack and conscription securely in place, Sakura raced to gate of her home. Giving one last look to the place she grew up in with the people she loves, Sakura ventured forth into the pouring rain with only a hooded cloak to shield her from the storm.

Only to meet an opposition waiting just outside the gate.

“Tsunade?” she mumbled aloud in shock. Her hands fisted on her sides as she stared at the old woman holding up an umbrella over her head, “I-I was just going to your house and-!”

“Oh cut the crap girl! I know you’re going to the army in your father’s place,” Sakura felt herself freeze and that’s not because of the cold rain, “I was there when they gave your father his conscription.”

Anxiety grew in levels as a thousand thoughts raced in her mind. Why is she here? And more importantly, she was caught! She barely left the village and she was already caught! They may be friends. At least, Sakura liked to believe they were friends, but would Tsunade tell on her? Could she convince the old woman to let her go? Can she make her understand?

“P-Please let me go,” Sakura said between biting her lower lip. A thought passed her to force her way from the old woman if she would not let her go, “I’ve already made my decision! I’m going to be a shinobi!”

Tsunade huffed, her unimpressed tone loud even amongst the storm, “Certainly not with your current state. You didn’t even bother to change your clothes! What were you thinking, girl?! Forget about joining the army! They’ll have you executed from where you stand before you can get anywhere near the camp!”

Sakura ducked her head down in shame and her teeth clenched together in anger.

She was angry with herself for missing that foresight. She was in a panic to not get caught by her parents, she forgot that the people, the soldiers she’ll be joining with are all in another league of their own. There’s no way a girl that only cut her hair to resemble a boy’s would be missed from under their noses. She planned on slicing off the rest of her clothes later once the storm fades and she finds a secure place to camp.

But what can she do? She’s already cut her hair to back down now.

“Lift your head up, Sakura.” She obeyed, and her conflicted green eyes met with determined honeyed browns. “Follow me.”

The second they reached Tsunade’s house, the old woman immediately threw her a different pack. This one heavier and filled to the brim with more food, medical aid, and clothes. _Boy’s clothes_.

“T-Tsunade-baa, wha-“ she was cut off as another pair of boy’s clothes hit her face.

“No time for chit-chat, girl! Hurry up and change into these clothes but don’t wear the shirt yet,” her voice was stern and with urgency that Sakura could only clamp her mouth shut and obey.

Disregarding any form of modesty, Sakura stripped down her wet kimono apart from her undergarments. Across her chest was a tight roll of cloth to disguise her small, developing breasts. Meanwhile, Tsunade pulled back drawers upon drawers until she found a single calligraphy brush and inkwell. Why that inkwell had strange patterns and symbols on it, she never had the chance to ask.

Tsunade placed those items in front of her and with a metal object with her other hand, she made a slashing motion so quick Sakura’s eyes weren’t able to see it. The weird black knife of six sharp edges that had a ring to loop fingers in from the other end, sliced easily through her bindings like her father’s sword when she cut her hair.

“Tsunade-baa!” Sakura cried, hands immediately darted up to her chest to salvage any form of modesty but the old woman’s hands easily caught her wrists and pinned them down to her sides.

“Now’s not the time for this, Sakura. As I’ve said, we don’t have much time,” steel was in her voice as her honey-colored eyes blazed to Sakura’s shocked, green ones. So much was happening in such little time but she once more felt that sense of urgency and at her minute nod, Tsunade let go to pick up the brush and inkwell.

Her heart thundered in her chest as loud as the roars in the sky as she watched the old woman swirl her brush along the dark ink before dipping it on her chest. Powered only by curiosity and blind trust on the old woman, Sakura watched in shock and curiosity as Tsunade passed the brush along her cream-colored skin as if she was painting on a canvas.

Except Tsunade wasn’t painting anything. Instead, she drew patterns and symbols foreign to her. Lines, looping letters, and incoherent characters were all arranged in an intricate pattern centered over her chest where her heart was supposed to be. If Sakura had to describe it, it resembled a tree with its leaves formed in a neat circle as its massive trunk reached all the way down to her belly-button.

When she looked up at Tsunade, in hopes of getting any semblance of answer, all she saw was a determined look on her face as she released the brush and formed her fingers together in a sign she didn’t understand.

“ _Kassei-ka suru,_ ” she said in a tone akin to a command and in the next instant, the black ink scrawled all over her body light in a bright blue glow.

At a lost for words, Sakura closed her eyes from the blinding light as she felt an indescribable warmth engulf her. It started from her stomach, then up to her heart, until finally it dispersed from the tips of her down to her very toes. It felt as if a trail of fire was coursing through her veins but it wasn’t pleasant at all. Although it made her feel funny, it didn’t bother her in the least bit.

She didn’t know how long it took but the moment the warmth left her, Sakura closed her eyes in time to see Tsunade nod in satisfaction.

“Tsunade-baa, wha-“ she cut herself short when she pressed a hand to her chest as if to search for that warmth. Instead, she only to felt a completely flat chest.

Alarmed, Sakura shot her eyes down and true enough, the small mounds were gone and she only realized belatedly that the ink was gone too. And the only proof of its existence was a small, insignificant black dot at the center of her chest that could easily be mistaken for a mole.

“W-What’s going on?!” she exclaimed and her hands shot over her mouth next. Gone was the pitch in her voice and instead she heard the common, low timbre of a young boy.

A boy.

Hastily, she pulled back the hem of her boy shorts and she felt her body freeze and all her blood race to her face as she saw the _thing_ hanging between her once-empty thighs.

“Don’t worry, it’s not functional besides having to pee. I know it will be awkward at first but you’ll have to learn to get used to it, and I advise you do so as soon as possible,” Tsunade said just as Sakura was a split second away from screaming. Her shout of surprise was only impeded by the great pounding in her heart and the embarrassment swirling in her head that made her lightheaded.

“Wh-what have you done to me?” she finally mustered the courage to ask.

“This is a seal I’ve been developing nearly all my life. It defies the senses of nature and unless it’s the work of the gods themselves then no one will ever doubt you are a boy,” Tsunade answered casually as she picked up the rest of her pack and perused over them without a break in her movement. she handed her a shirt, “You can put this on now.”

She accepted the shirt wordlessly.

Tsunade continued as she unfurled a map of the entire Fire Country and pointed with one, wrinkled finger, “A different cart will come for the civilian draftees so you’ll have to go to the main camp yourself to avoid any suspicions. I’ll do something to ensure those villagers won’t be suspicious of you. You’ve been to Aomaru town, right? Then once you get to the forked road leading to that town, go completely off course and head due east. You’ll travel across a wide plain before entering a forest. Don’t doubt your path and just keep heading east. You know you’re nearly there once you notice the trees have gotten so large and tall sunlight could barely filter between the leaves.”

“Tsunade-baa,” Sakura chose that moment to talk, finally finding her voice. Her green eyes, confused, terrified, and pleading, but with a firm resolve that burned behind her deep irises, stared at her only friend. She asked the one questions she always wanted to ask ever since they first met, “Who are you?”

The old woman stared back with more solemnity reflecting off her eyes. A sort of resignation foreign to the usually strong-willed woman.

“There is nothing in my past but ghosts, Sakura. I don’t want you to be haunted by them too,” she said vaguely, and Sakura’s heart ached as strength completely stripped from Tsunade’s eyes, “I was prepared to live a life in solitude until the day my body rots away and my soul finally leaves this world to join those I’ve lost, but then you came along…”

Her chapped lips quirked up in a rare, genuine smile Sakura herself had only ever seen once.

“I made a gamble with myself, you see, about what you would do after those shinobi made the announcement.”

“But you’re awful in gambling,”

“Unfortunately.”

“Did you bet that I would do this?”

Tsunade was silence for a moment, “No. I bet that you wouldn’t.”

Through her nose, the old woman took a deep breath and released it just as slowly between her lips. Her wrinkled yet strong hands raised to cup Sakura’s face, and her thumbs caressed her cheeks. There was only a minimal change in her appearance, given her age, but in time her soft, round cheeks would disappear and her jaw would become more defined as well as the other parts of her body as she grows.

Unbeknownst to Sakura, this would be Tsunade’s ultimate gamble.

“I have done all I can to help you, Sakura. What happens next will solely be up to you. This path is extremely difficult, reckless, dangerous, and death will follow you the moment you step out of this village, but I have complete trust and faith in you. So whatever happens, you must always stand if you fall down, you must never stop pushing no matter what they tell you, and most importantly, you _fight_. You fight even as every bone in your body breaks. You fight for as long as your will of fire burns brightly in your heart. Never lose yourself, Sakura, or else your courage will follow. You already have more than enough courage I could ever hope to have. Trust me, Sakura, this decision you made, this sacrifice; you’re doing the one thing I ever regretted I didn’t do in my entire life.”

“Tsunade-baa…” Sakura’s lips pressed into a thin line as her vision begins to fog. She said in-between sobs, “I don’t understand what’s going on. I have so many questions. I’m scared. Everything’s just going so fast. I-I! I…”

“Promise me, Sakura. Promise me you’ll return. Promise me you’ll return and have tea with me and tell me everything about your journey.”

Big, fat tears left a trail of warmth as they cascaded down both their cheeks. Sakura felt her heart about to burst with all the emotional turmoil and overload, but she squashed it down at the sight of the old woman that was her only friend. Her arms shot forth and wrapped them around the older woman in a firm yet gentle embrace that conveyed more than their words could ever tell.

“I promise, Tsunade-baa. I promise I’ll return.”

Tsunade let a sob escape from her throat as she prayed for the first time in fifty years. She prayed for the sweet, innocent girl that was the embodiment of spring. She prayed for the filial daughter sacrificing for the sake of her father. She prayed for the curious mind and bleeding-heart marching towards a battlefield of death and destruction. She prayed for the brave and courageous soul she could never hope to be. She prayed for the young girl who was proud to call her friend.

She prayed for Haruno Sakura.

Under the roaring thunder and tempestuous rain, straddling the back of a jet black steed with a star on its forehead, was a young boy of pink hair and green eyes wearing his father’s sword on his back and a promise in his heart as he, whose true identity was of the young girl no older than twelve years, rode towards the most treacherous journey of her life.

Like a carp beginning the long climb of a raging waterfall, an unassuming civilian girl begins the path of a shinobi and fight in war.


	2. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be reminded that Sakura is 12 years old and has absolutely ZERO knowledge of shinobi life. All of the stuff you will read are all based on her deductions and lessons gathered from worldbuilding.

Sakura gulped down mouthfuls of water, her bare feet dipped in the gentle flowing river as she basked in the bright mid-afternoon sun. Not far from her was the stallion Tsunade had lent her to help her travel. His jet-black coat and raven mane and tail made him look like a creature born from the shadows if not for the lone white star on his forehead.

It had been three days since she left the village. Three days since she made her decision. In that time, she was filled with nothing but determination and drive to get away as soon as possible. Shin, the dark stallion, was the one that helped her achieve that. His strong legs helped her cross distances her short ones wouldn’t possibly be able to traverse in a short amount of time. Her experiences in riding had also helped alleviate the discomfort of riding for so long. Even after her father could no longer walk without difficulty, she had taken to riding the vast fields outside their village walls after her lessons until the day her father’s mare died.

By the end of the first day, she was more than assured that she had covered enough ground to deter any pursuers. She wasn’t sure if her father would send people out to find her, and after the second day, she was sure he didn’t. A part of her was relieved while another can’t help but feel disappointed.

Thanks to her companion, she was able to cut a week’s worth of travel in just half. At this rate, she’ll be able to reach the army’s main camp soon. She casted a glance towards the stallion that had now taken to drinking by the river as well. Although she only had one point of reference, she could tell that Shin was far stronger and faster than any other horse. He’s also more intelligent too. When she tried to approach it after taking a break for the first time, it didn’t so much as flinch and faithfully kept to her side. It deserved the attention because her father taught her that establishing bonds were important, both with people and animals; and for that stallion to let her ride on his back for hours on end under a pouring rain and not be cautious after suddenly being shoved at such a task is no common feat. There’s an air about him that disproved domestication would be the cause as well.

She glanced down her pack and noted the number of rations there. The adrenaline and turmoil of emotions had kept her hunger at bay for the last few days. Tsunade had added whatever rations she might need and she still have enough to fill the rest of the week’s worth.

After finishing an entire loaf of bread, Sakura refilled her waterskins and climbed on Shin’s back to resume her journey. The stallion having already rested enough. If her reading of the map and time is accurate, then she’ll be reaching the camp just before nightfall.

The tallest tree in her village couldn’t hold a candle to the gargantuan trees that make up this forest. She felt like a mere ant as she maneuvered her horse between the thick roots the size of her. There was no road that paved the way in the forest and the large shadows casted over her made her extremely uncomfortable and cautious. It also didn’t help that moments of silence would reign between bird calls over the high tree tops.

Although she hasn’t seen a single bird yet.

If not for Tsunade’s words then she would’ve second-guessed her destination and even go back to retrace her steps.

Just as she was about to wonder about the old woman, the stallion abruptly stopped.

“What’s wrong, Shin?” she asked and the horse whinnied with a shake of its head in response.

Sakura stared up ahead, noticing nothing out of the ordinary but her hands fisted over the reins. Carefully, she motioned for the stallion to turn halfway in a position that would easily help them retreat if something decided to come at them.

“I-Is someone there?” she called over the silence and rustling leaves overhead. Sakura suppressed a gasp as she saw a lone figure step around a tree and stop in front of her. If she had averted her eyes, she wouldn’t have caught the person by chance as their feet made nary a sound in the undergrowth.

“State your purpose or be executed from where you stand,” the figure commanded menacingly, warningly. The white porcelain mask secured on its face painted with red lines to resemble a dog’s was intimidating despite its neutral appearance. They wore a hooded robe, lighter than her own, and the figure’s distinctly male voice was its only indication of its identity.

Sakura gulped, wary. There was no swirling leaf symbol on him so she wasn’t sure if he was a friend or foe. Surely, bandits don’t dress themselves like that. He was definitely shinobi just from the way he carried himself. Maybe an enemy? A cold wave of dread washed over her. If he was, that meant enemy forces were able to infiltrate this deep in their territory.

Not good.

“A-Are you a leaf shinobi?” she asked dumbly. Her foot hidden from his view raised slightly, ready to kick Shin into making a run for it if her suspicions came true. She doesn’t know much about shinobi but surely her horse will be able to outrun one, right?

“And if I am?” he answered, and Sakura let out a breath of relief. Unaware of the other’s subtle movements underneath his robe to grab for a weapon in his many pouches.

“I’m a d-draftee, sir,” she answered nervously, “I’ve traveled all this way to join the leaf-“

In an instant, she felt her back slam hard to the nearest tree as her breath was knocked out of her from the force. Frightened green eyes could only stare at the hint of black pupils behind the slits of the mask. The close proximity hardly gave her any other view as she heard Shin’s alarmed neighs and stomping hooves behind him. It was the familiar sound of a horse being restrained.

She only realized belatedly about a sharp weapon pointed threateningly over her exposed throat. Sakura felt like crying out of sheer terror.

“All draftees are sent to the camp via regulated transports,” he said. His voice lowered even more.

_‘Shit!_ ’ Sakura cursed in a way that would’ve earn her a slap on the wrists and a time out. Those _are_ the instructions for the draftees but Tsunade had instructed her to go to the main camp on her own without looking back. Sakura should’ve known that such a military base wouldn’t be without its sentries. She just didn’t realize they were this… _aggressive._

“P-Please sir! I-I came very f-far from the countryside. I came of my own a-a-accord,” her male-modified voice trembled along with her body against the immovable force pinning her down.

“That’s even more suspicious,” he said, and Sakura took a sharp inhale at the feel of a cold metal edge just a hair away from her quivering neck, “Why don’t you just confess which country you’re from? If you surrender now, we might even take you in as a war prisoner.”

_Might_ did not equate to _will_.

“I-I-It’s the truth sir! M-My conscription notice! My conscription notice is tied on my belt!” she cried, terrified that if she so much as make any sudden movements, blood would spray out of her slit throat. Or worse, her entire head.

The shinobi pondered her words for a moment, and in that tense silence, Sakura fought an inner struggle to not let fear overwhelm her to the point of irrationality. She bit her lip as the shinobi kept his weapon over her neck as the other swiftly parted her robe. She barely even felt the brush of his fingers for in the next second, the red and green scroll was in his hand. He turned the scroll this and that as if to criticize the object until he was satisfied.

Sakura let out an audible exhale the moment he let go. His weird weapon back in his pouch.

“Follow me,” he said and without preamble, began his march towards the direction she was just heading.

Out of fear and anxiety over the command, Sakura scrambled back to Shin’s side and only realized there were more shinobi clad in the same uniform as the former. Their different heights and masks representing different animals were the only things that set one apart from the other. From what she could tell, there was a robin, a bear, a squirrel, a tiger, and a weasel. They all watched her intensely behind lifeless black dots and slits for eyes as she brushed her hand over Shin’s neck.

The stallion’s nuzzle over her head was her only source of comfort.

She didn’t have the chance to marvel at the large imposing gate between sentry towers as she was immediately directed to the nearest, unassuming building. And because Shin wasn’t allowed to accompany her, Sakura felt her nervousness well back up. Even more so as men, shinobi, glanced her way as she passed. She hated how it made her feel like a piece of entertainment, and it showed on the way she ducked her head down in a reflexive way to make her small and unassuming. A part of her scolded herself for it. Knowing that it was no way for a _boy_ to act, but in the face of the unknown, all alone, how else would she be able to express herself?

“Shiranui,” the shinobi with the dog mask said, stopping in front of another more-familiar clad shinobi. Except this one had a bandana wrapped around his head and a toothpick hung casually between his lips. Although it had a metallic sheen uncharacteristic of wood.

“Yo!” he greeted with a casual salute with two raised fingers while the other dug in one pocket. He dropped his gaze from the other, then down to her, “Straggler?”

“Draftee. Came out here on his own, or so he said. Found him just one klick away.”

A brunette brow raised as he shifted the metal toothpick from one side to the other, “Really? Well, you’re in luck kid. The Commander just got back.”

She’s definitely not sure if it meant good luck or not.

Wordlessly, they parted ways. Sakura was just about to resume following the dog-masked nin when she felt a gloved hand land on her head and steered her around effortlessly.

“No, no, kid. You’re coming with me,” he said.

Embarrassed, the pinkette felt a twinge of heat over her cheeks as she nodded minutely in understanding before falling into step behind him. Shiranui, she recalled, led her to an empty corridor with doors lined on both sides. Being raised in a mostly traditional setting, Sakura was used to the shoji screens and tatami floors. Her father never brought her along when he used to go to the capital for business so she had only heard of the houses made of mixed sand and stone, and heavy metal doors and glass windows. Her father called it _modern architecture_. It’s maybe because of that Sakura felt a little uneasy as she followed the shinobi before her.

On their way, a few shinobi would pass by and greet Shiranui. All of which stopped in their tracks to give a sort of salute- fingers pressed together with the tip of their middle finger just touching the corner of their right brow- their postures would suddenly become stiff and ramrod straight as they passed.

_Was that his name?_ No. She may not know anything about the military but she at least knew that one doesn’t address a superior by their given name. It made her wonder how high a position this person held.

They stopped at the end of the hall in front of a large door with an elaborate symbol on the front. Sakura blinked when Shiranui knocked on the door twice. She barely heard the words allowing him to enter when he opened the door and prompted her inside after him. He didn’t go any further after closing the door, and just like the ones she saw in the hallway, his posture became stiff as he gave a firm salute to the three occupants in the room.

“I apologize for intruding, Jounin Commander Nara, but I was hoping you could spare us a bit of your time.”

Feeling awkward, Sakura looked over the three men before her. One of them had long, ash-blond hair reaching into his lower back, tide together in a high pony tail. He had light green eyes, and over his vest was a long black overcoat. The other, who looked youngest between the two, including Shiranui, had dark brown hair also kept in a high ponytail. Though his hair wasn’t as long as the first. His most distinguishing feature was the large scar that ran across the bridge of his nose. The last of which also had scars on his face. However, they were two distinct marks that ran from one side of his face as if a massive claw had swiped at him. He, too, had similar hair as the second but it was held tightly so his entire face was exposed. His dark hair had a twin goatee on his chin and unlike the first, he wore a coat with messy trim and hand guards.

Sakura had a strong suspicion the last one was this Jounin Commander Nara.

“A deserter?” the scarred Commander asked after setting his eyes on her.

“No, sir,” Shiranui answered, “Team Ro found him in the forest on their way back. Dog said he’s a draftee.”

The shinobi with a scar over his nose had a genuine look of surprise on his face while the rest had raised their brows obviously in doubt.

“A draftee made it this far on his own?” the blonde asked incredulously before addressing her, “How did you do it?”

Not really understanding their perplexity, Sakura answered dumbly, “With my horse, sir?”

She heard Shiranui sigh beside her and she wondered if she said something wrong. Looking back, that might have been the case. Rather, her answer must not have been enough.

“Is that so?” the Commander said patiently, stroking his goatee, “What’s your name, son?”

“My name is Haruno Sakura… da-!” Sakura clamped her mouth instantly before she could utter the rest of the _‘damn’_ curse word. If she’s really in the presence of high ranks then it wouldn’t do good to be accused of disrespect before she could even begin.

Instead, she panicked inwardly at the situation she got herself in. In her travel, things have escalated to extreme awkwardness when she had to relieve herself. She knew there was a slight difference in anatomy between males and females thanks to the medical books she read. However, knowing one thing is a far cry from experiencing a piece of organ of the opposite sex. Tsunade mentioned it wasn’t functional besides relieving, _whatever that means_ , but it still didn’t help ease her embarrassment and mental overload that she had shut that thought down altogether. Or anything related for that matter, and that included names for her alias.

No matter how she looked at it, Sakura is more commonly a feminine name.

“Alright, Haruno Sakurada-kun, can you please elaborate on your explanation on how you got here, exactly?”

_Sakurada?_

Sakura blinked her surprised green eyes up. What is- did they just connect-? Should she correct them? They don’t seem to have any complaints with her name though.

“Were you not informed that draftees are gathered and transported to their respective camps by regulated transports?” the Commander prompted.

Instinctively, Sakura held her tongue from saying that an old woman had told her where to find them. How Tsunade knew that was something she’ll never know in the near future.

Should she lie? **No**. In this mental stress, Sakura herself wouldn’t be confident enough to lie what she had for breakfast. It also doesn’t help that she’s under suspicion in the eyes of these men. But she also can’t tell the _whole_ truth either.

The pinkette gulped, “Y-Yes, sir. It did say that, but there’s a reason why I didn’t go along with the other draftees.”

“And what is that?”

Sakura bit her lip momentarily before answering, “It was for my father, sir. He… He didn’t want me to join the army.”

Her head hung low in sadness as she remembered the look of unspoken apology and sacrifice in her father’s eyes.

“Although it is an option to have only one or two men to join the ranks, why didn’t your father just come along with you instead?”

Sakura shook her head, “That’s because my father _can’t_ fight anymore, sir. He’s become a cripple because of an injury from the last war. I-I chose to come in his stead. Even if it’s against his wishes. I was afraid he would stop me if I waited along with the other draftees in my village.”

If she looked up, she would’ve seen the flash of sympathy on their faces before they resumed a look of suspicion.

“An admirable decision, Haruno-kun, but that still doesn’t explain how you were able to get here on your own. Did your father tell you where to find the main camp?”

There was an edge in his voice, subtle, but there nonetheless. If she hadn’t played with Tsunade’s game of ‘ _guess everything about that person just by looking and hearing_ ’, then she never would’ve noticed. At least now, it answered an earlier question of hers that no one was supposed to know their location. In her defense, Tsunade didn’t tell her the exact location either. Only how to know she’s headed in the right direction.

“Well, no sir, my father didn’t tell me exactly,” she answered, “He only mentioned during the rare chance he shared a story that the base is in a forest full of the largest trees. I-I only got here because I used a map and I asked questions, sir. There’s a town called Aomaru and locals say that most of the shinobi who visited that town always come and go in the east. I-I just assumed that was the general direction and when I finally found the forest with large trees… I hoped I was right.”

Sakura prayed to every god she knew that her half-based explanation would be enough. It’s no lie that Sakura deduced all of these based on whatever clue she has. Whenever she visited the town of Aomaru, a center of trade between all the nearby villages, Sakura would often see shinobi come and go, and she may have overheard people talk about them. The merchants, her father included, relied on the activity of shinobi to determine which routes are safest to travel on. This is for the sake of the less wealthy merchants and traders who couldn’t afford the price of a shinobi escort. And most of their queries always start with _“Any news of shinobi visiting from the East?”_ later on, she would learn that East was the direction they mostly came _from_ because the rest of the cardinal directions are always the paths they go _to_.

Of course, she never knew this piece of information would be of any help to her.

What she didn’t know, was how her explanation was more scaringly accurate than she would’ve first thought. Sakura was completely oblivious to the piercing gaze directed at her. Most especially from the Jounin Commander, the Strategy and Operations Director.

“You mean to tell me you figured it out from those things alone?” he asked before immediately following, “Where did you say you’re from?”

“Yes, sir. I-I’m from a small village in the northernmost province.”

“And your father? What is his profession?”

“He’s a merchant, sir. He mostly trades goods such as potteries and furniture. He fought in the last war.”

“A civilian…” the Commander mumbled barely audibly.

“You mentioned that you’re a Haruno, didn’t you?” the blond-haired man spoke up. His hand had been holding his chin in thought since her introductions, “Is your father perhaps… named Haruno Kizashi?”

The surprise on Sakura’s face must be more than enough for the blond as he broke out a smile.

“Ahh, I should’ve known from the hair alone. Yours is a lot brighter than his though.”

Sakura’s lips opened and closed minutely like a fish out of water, overridden with shock.

“You know this boy, Inoichi?” the Commander asked.

“No, but I knew his father. He served in the D-4 platoon that I commanded before I was reassigned to command a higher unit. He has no affinity for chakra but he was talented with a sword, but I also remember him for having a knack for puns and a weird sense of humor. Apart from his hair color, of course,” Inoichi laughed to himself at the end. When he finally calmed himself, he stared at Sakura for a moment before turning back to Nara, “You can give this boy the clear, Shikaku. I’ll vouch for him.”

Shikaku returned the other’s gaze and for a moment, he just stared. Almost as if they were having a silent conversation, until he finally sighed and said, “Well, if the Captain of the Intelligence Division himself vouches for this boy, then there’s no need to keep this conversation any longer. Umino, have him enlisted. Welcome to the Leaf Shinobi Army, Haruno Sakurada.”

* * *

Sakura profusely thanked her lucky stars in her head. The fact that she was able to bypass all other questions regarding her identity thanks to her savior- Captain of the Intelligence Division, Yamanaka Inoichi- was a cause for celebration that had her wanting to shout and cheer to the heavens.

Immediately after, she was escorted out, not by Shiranui, but by the scarred-nose shinobi that had been silent throughout the entire meeting but displayed the most emotions in his reactions. Thus, making all her questions about the Yamanaka’s connection to her father to be put on hold for the time being. She learned his name to be Umino Iruka, a third grade chūnin. Unlike the other shinobi she’s met so far, sans Yamanaka-san, Umino-san was the most pleasant to be around of them all. That’s to say, compared to the rest, he smiled more easily and that instantly eased the nervousness Sakura had over her joy.

He showed her the way to the Records Section and helped her get enlisted, which was something easy as filling up basic, general information. The only difference was how she had to remind herself to modify her name so the characters would be read as Sakurada instead. It’s too late to change it now that ranked shinobi have taken to addressing her as such. After which, Umino-san escorted her to the barracks where she would be staying with the rest of the draftees.

Sakura stared at the large letter and number that served as the only identification amidst the rest of identical-looking buildings. It was an elongated, concrete building that looked to only have one floor. Windows were placed evenly apart and the entire plain appearance made it look dull and unassuming. The shinobi manning the desk in the Records Section said it was the only barracks that had a singular, open bed.

“You’ll be staying here, Haruno-kun,” Umino said, “I look forward to seeing your performance during training.”

Snapped from her wonderings, Sakura whipped her head to the brunette and bowed her head down, “Yes! Thank you very much, Umino-san sir!”

Iruka said nothing else but gave her a gentle smile before finally turning and leaving. Possibly to return to his duties. Sakura took that cue to turn around herself and approach the door that will no doubt become her home for the foreseeable future. On the other side of the metal door, she heard a myriad of voices. All male, and all distinctly young.

A stab of newfound nervousness pierced her heart. Growing up, Sakura preferred the company of books than her own peers. Though she was taught how to speak properly to others in her lessons, she hardly had the initiative to talk to others unless completely necessary. However, being here, she knew that there is no army made of one person. The people behind this door might as well be her future comrades-in-arms. Avoiding interaction will be almost impossible.

That doesn’t mean she looked forward to it though.

With a deep breath and one hand gripping on the strap of her pack, she reached for the knob, turned the handle, and pushed open the door.

The noise abruptly stopped before she even placed a foot inside.

Sakura felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her earlier anxiety at the pairs of eyes that locked onto her and she ducked her head and pressed her legs tight together in reflex. She was taught early on that one of a woman’s virtues were of silence and demureness. Never had she ever been the center of attention so the situation before her nearly had her quaking in her sandals. Especially since the eyes on her belonged to _boys_.

The silence stretched on as Sakura felt herself tongue-tied while the others kept staring as if waiting for something to happen.

“Hey, new kid,” someone finally broke the silence.

Green eyes peeked up towards the source. A boy in her age was watching her with an air of arrogance. His eyes were as dark as his hair, making a great contrast with his pale complexion. Though he did not look sickly. He wore a dark blue shirt with a high collar that nearly touched his chin along with equally colored shorts. Sakura felt heat touch her cheeks both in embarrassment and at the sight of a lovely-looking boy. Growing up, most of her time was kept for her lessons and doing chores around the house. Once girls have reached a certain age, they were hardly allowed to leave their homes unless it’s to do errands and a chaperone must always be present. Usually another family member. It was from there that Sakura deduced there was an unspoken line between girls and boys. If not also, her mother would often tell her a girl must limit her interactions with boys that are not family until she’s engaged and wed. To which she should only have eyes for her husband.

Sakura did not fully understood those words but every once in a while, she would gush and let her heart stutter over a boy in the village. She knew what attraction meant.

_But does she have the right to do that here when she’s masquerading as a boy as well?_

“Where’s your manners? Introduce yourself,” the pretty boy continued, snapping Sakura from her thoughts.

Out of reflex born from the years of lessons, Sakura postured herself so her limbs were tucked closely together, making her smaller than she already was as she laid her palms flat over her knees. She bent her body from the waist, “Nice to meet you, my name is Haruno Sakurada.”

Just as she praised herself mentally for not stuttering her new name, she heard a sputter, causing her to lift her head back up again.

“Man! You look _and_ act like a girl!” a boy with a wild mop of brown hair exclaimed followed by raucous laughter. His canines were a bit sharper and longer than her own and he had distinct red markings painting his cheeks. On his lap was an adorable white puppy that gave off tiny barks as its tail wagged from side to side.

Initially, cold dread filled her at his words and her embarrassment changed into fear for being discovered. _Did Tsunade’s seal no longer work? How did he see through her disguise? Are they going to tell the higher ups and have her executed on the spot?_ However, that fear changed just as instantly when the other boys started laughing along with him. Even pretty boy had a smirk on his face at the jibe.

Sakura was initially confused. Being a girl herself not too long ago, she failed to see what’s so funny about being called one. But that was answered when she heard the next words from his mouth.

“Like, _pink_?! That’s such a weak, girly color!”

Their laughter grew louder at the added comment. Those select few who chose to remain silent however, had smirks on their faces to show their amusement.

_Weak? Girly?!_

Inside, Sakura felt rage burn in her gut. She doesn’t fully understand it but she took great offense at his insinuation. Her teeth grinded together as her fists tightened. They neither minded nor cared for her expression. Just as she was about to say something in retaliation, another voice prompted a question.

“I’ve never heard of a shinobi family named Haruno before,” this time, the one who spoke was another brunette. Though unlike most of the boys in the building, he wore his hair long and straight. His eyes were pupil-less pearls that almost looked reflective in the right light. “Which part of Konoha do you live?”

_Konoha?_

Sakura blinked, “Uh, no, I come from a small village in the northern province.”

The mirth that filled the air instantly shifted as half of the boys’ faces twisted in disappointment and disgust. The latter being the expression of the one who asked.

“You’re a civilian?” he spat, and Sakura’s mind immediately asked why. He didn’t wait for an answer though as he turned on his heels and moved back from the crowd.

_How… how rude!_

And just like that, all the attention she garnered just dissipated. Others followed the brunette and walked away, while others looked on disdainfully as they muttered to each other. One moment Sakura was the center of attention, ridiculed and laughed at, the next she felt like a social outcast being ignored at everyone.

Sakura bit her inner cheek as she tried to simmer down her anger, and also tried to wrap her head around what just happened.

Which wasn’t very productive.

Frustrated, and tired from her long journey, Sakura chose to set those aside for now and head to her supposed bed. She crossed the wide aisle made possible by the emptiness of the building in terms of furniture. Apart from the ceiling lamps spaced as evenly as the windows on the walls, the barracks were practically empty save for the rows of bunk beds pressed to the walls. There were five on each sides, counting twenty occupants in total. Right beside those beds were two-door metal lockers meant to keep their belongings. Which, obviously, doesn’t hold much.

As Sakura walked down, the boys had resumed whatever activity they were doing earlier. Somewhere just plainly chatting and laughing with one another. The boy with fangs was talking with a few of them, puppy still on his lap, the pretty boy was lying on his bed with an arm over his eyes as if taking a nap, while the long-haired brunette was sitting cross-legged on his own bed in a position that reminded her of Tsunade’s teaching.

Shaking her head to rid the ire towards them, Sakura carefully approached the slim boy that looked eerily like the Jounin Commander from earlier. He was sitting cross-legged on a bed in front of a wooden block that Sakura recognized as a Shogi board. There was a look of concentration on his face that made her hesitate in disturbing him. Across from him was, by contrast, a larger, plump boy with swirls on his cheeks munching away a bag full of bread. She chose to approach them for the simple reason that they were the only ones who didn’t outright laugh or even looked amused when the other boys teased her earlier.

“E-Excuse me?” she started. “Can you please help me? I was wondering if you know which bed I’ll be staying in? The Records Section said there should be one more empty bed.”

Because the other boys grouped and together in other beds, she wouldn’t know which one was hers. Sakura waited patiently for an answer but she was only met with silence except for the occasional munch from the plump brunette.

“Uhm…” she prompted, even faking a cough, but the boys didn’t stir. For a moment, the slim boy casted a glance at her but immediately turned back to the board and finally moved one of the pieces from his side. The look of concentration never left his face. Blinking, Sakura turned her own sights at the game. The slim boy’s had a familiar formation for defense while the other was on the offensive. Usually, it’ll already be a cause for concern when one’s defenses were breached but his opponent had a good formation despite it. After a moment, Sakura realized that if the boy wasn’t careful, he’d risk having his own defenses shattered or be cornered instead.

She knew this because her father owned a Shogi board and had taught her how to play. It was also the only activity both her parents engage in so she would have a match against them whenever time allowed it. Sakura herself liked the game too and would also play even on her own in boredom. There’s also the time when Tsunade once tricked her into playing in her stead. Needless to say, the man she bet against with was not very happy he lost against a little girl and Tsunade relished in the man’s humiliation as she shamelessly counted the money she won in front of him.

Her green eyes looked at the plump boy. _Was he that good in this game?_

Her question was answered however when the slim boy’s hand reached over the opposite side and moved a piece. Her mouth parted but the plump boy didn’t seem to mind. This exchange happened again in a few moves and Sakura felt her ire swell again. This time for being ignored.

Before the slim boy could reach for another piece on the plump boy’s side, Sakura moved the promoted general and placed it on the one spot that ultimately broke his defense as well as corner his king.

He blinked his dark eyes a few times before finally leaning back as he fixed his eyes on her. Beside her, the other boy had stopped munching and turned to her as well.

“The bed, please?”

He just stared blinkingly at her, and for a moment, Sakura thought he wouldn’t be answering her question again but then he let out a long sigh.

“What a drag,” he mumbled before jabbing his thumb out lazily, “Last bed on the left.”

“Thank you.”

With that said, Sakura almost skipped her way at the end of the aisle.

.

Later that night, a shinobi had arrived at their barracks just to tell them it was time to sleep with a vague message that they need all the rest they can get before turning off the lights. Sakura laid on her bed uncomfortably. The bed gave her only a few inches of free space, the mattress was hard, almost stiff, and her pillow wasn’t fluffy enough for her head. It made her miss the soft futon she had back home and the tatami floor of her room. Not that the forest floor on the way here was any better.

She wondered if Shin’s more comfortable in his accommodations. Umino-san said, because shinobi don’t use horses, they would not have much purpose in the army besides helping in delivering and moving supplies. Sakura wasn’t sure what to feel about an intelligent creature being used in such a way. Not when she owed the stallion for taking her all the way here. Thankfully, Umino-san told her that she can volunteer to do chores in the stables if she wanted to visit her animal friend.

As a new recruit, her time is limited but the army’s always welcome to chore volunteers. He said it may even give her merits. _Whatever that means._

In her discomfort, Sakura resorted to reflecting what happened in the last few days. Everything just happened so quickly and suddenly Sakura had no time to think much of anything. She was just driven with the desire to save her father by any means necessary, even if she risked death.

Thinking about it now, she mentally scolded herself for the reckless decision. A woman only has a few roles she can play in their society. Masquerading as a man, let alone a soldier- _a shinobi_ \- who’s said to be their own Daimyo’s shadow, is a crime punishable by death.

If Tsunade hadn’t helped her, she wouldn’t doubt Inu-san wouldn’t bother warning her once she stepped inside the forest.

_How scary_.

Just as she felt a shudder at the possibility, she heard the door open. From the corner of her eye, two shinobi shoved a little boy inside the building. She couldn’t hear what they said from her distance but they didn’t last long and closed the door behind them.

None of the other boys stirred from their beds but Sakura watched as the newcomer make his way down the aisle, grumbling something she couldn’t hear, until he stopped dead at the foot of her bed. She took the lower bunk.

“Huh? Why’re you in ma bed, ‘ttebayo?” he asked, surprised.

Even in the darkness, with only the silver moonbeams spilling in from the windows, Sakura could clearly see a mop of unruly golden locks, the bluest eyes she’s ever seen, and markings on his cheeks that looked like whiskers.

“Your bed?” she asked dumbly. Her mind curious of his speech pattern.

He huffed, “Yeah! My bed!”

“O-Oh! I’m really sorry!” she whispered, mindful of the others, “I didn’t know you already claimed this one. I just arrived this afternoon-“

“What didya jus’ say?” he interrupted, pausing her from swinging her legs off the bed.

“Huh?”

“Did… didya jus’ say you were sorry? To me?”

Sakura blinked, confused at the look of shock in his expression, “Uhm… yes.”

“You’re ma bunkmate?”

Her finger scratched her cheek sheepishly, “I suppose so. I’m very sorry, I’ll just move to the top bunk righ-“

“Nah! nah! ‘s okay, ‘ttebayo!” a large, fox-like grin stretched his lips, “I like the top bunk anyway!”

As if to prove a point, he hastily used the ladder attached to the bed and climbed himself up in record speed. She heard him shuffle atop before sticking his head down to her.

“Hey, hey, you’re not gonna do somethin’ funny like poke me while I’m asleep, right?”

Pink brows shot up to her hair line. Sakura almost raised her voice at the audacity of the questions, “Wha-! Why would I do that? That’s absurd and I’ll never do something so rude.”

If possible, the blonde’s grin got wider.

“Awesome! I like ya already! My name’s Uzumaki Naruto. You?”

“Haruno Sakurada”

He gave a firm nod, “Got it. Night, Sakurada!”

Uzumaki didn’t even bother waiting for her reply as he retreated his head back from its up-side down position, and by the creak and thudding sound above, it’s not difficult to guess that he just plopped himself down on his bed. Leaving Sakura dumbfounded.

_Did… did he just call me by my first name?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klick is a military term for kilometer.
> 
> That’s the start of NARUSAKU BROTP! But as I said in the previous chapter, readers are free to interpret scenes with their pairings at their own discretion with respect to the other readers and author.  
> The training arc will mostly be inspired by my own experiences when I was in the ROTC but if there are any readers who went through the same training or are in the military, feel free to share your own experiences. And if you’ll allow me, let me use them as inspiration for the next scenes. Of course, credit will be yours.
> 
> Thank you for reading and stay awesome!  
> Ciao~!

**Author's Note:**

> Sakura’s childhood hideout at the beginning of the chapter is a reference to Sakura’s own childhood hideout in canon.
> 
> This chapter will be the only one that will be highly influenced by the 1998 Mulan Disney movie.
> 
> This has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while and I always wanted to create a Mulan-themed fic and a military, character building Sakura fic.
> 
> For the rest of Sakura’s masquerade, I’ll be using she/her pronouns except on dialogues when other characters would address to her and be referred in he/his pronouns.
> 
> This is the longest first chap I ever made for a fanfic and I could already see it’ll be just as long considering the worldbuilding and inner monologue I have to do to keep the story going to prevent stagnancy in the later chapters.
> 
> Visit me on tumblr: @jingmcastle
> 
> Thank you for reading and stay awesome!
> 
> Ciao~!


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